Black and white? My rhetoric is more colourful.

There are moments that redefine you as a trainer. Mine came in the form of an uncomfortable question.

Berlin. A seminar room. I am explaining the terms “white” and “black rhetoric” — a model I have used for years. Familiar, established, often heard.

Then a participant raises her hand:
“I find these terms problematic. They sound racist.”

Silence.

And then the decision:
Defend myself — or listen?

What does black rhetoric describe?

Communication trainers often use the paired terms “white” and “black” rhetoric to describe two opposing approaches to communication. White rhetoric stands for rational exchange and fair discussion in which participants jointly seek the best solution for everyone as equals. Black rhetoric, by contrast, is a manipulative approach designed to use rhetorical tricks and traps to persuade the other person to accept a disadvantage for themselves. One prominent user of the model is Arthur Schopenhauer; you can find his book on it here.

If, like me in the seminar, you are confronted with the fact that the terms you use are suddenly perceived as discriminatory and outdated, you have two options:

Option 1: Defend yourself. “It is a technical term.” “That is not what it means.” “It has nothing to do with that.”
Option 2: Listen.

I chose option 2.

But why stop saying black rhetoric?

Black and white are not arbitrary words. Black and white abstract outdated racist patterns that divide morality itself into bad (black) and good (white): two opposing, irreconcilable categories. The example above does the same: white rhetoric is rational, black rhetoric is cunning. But just because these patterns remain commonplace in society does not mean I should reproduce them.

And me? I had adopted it that way. Professionally. Out of habit. Without questioning it.

Until that moment.

I did not defend myself. I listened. And understood: if my language — and a term like “black rhetoric” — overshadows the content, if it excludes rather than opens doors, then I must change something. Not out of caution. Out of responsibility.

Since then, I have used different terms. For the same concept, but with a different attitude. I do not want my participants to stumble over language, but to use it to take their thinking further. You can also find a detailed, balanced article on this at the Society for the German Language.

I also know from debating what it means to receive feedback that changes everything: genuine feedback can hurt. Especially when it bruises the ego. But that is precisely the lever for change: if I only accept comfortable feedback, I will not improve. I will simply stand still.

My question to you: how do you react when someone points out a blind spot in front of others? Defensively or openly?

Want contemporary seminars with a clear stance and room for self-criticism? Then get in touch with me.